The Ghost of Captain Crieff
by CaptainClaire
Summary: Martin has to come to terms with his death while figuring out what happened.
1. Chapter 1

Martin should have realized something was wrong that morning, but he didn't have the time.

He awoke in his attic room dressed in his pilots uniform and feeling a bit off. Before he could even begin to panic over the possibility of wrinkling his uniform and looking unprofessional after apparently falling sleep in it, he saw the time and rushed out the door. None of the students paid him any mind. They hardly ever did on any other day.

He arrived at Fitton airfield with his apologies ready. Martin went onboard GERTI to find the crew distraught.

"Where could he BE?"

Carolyn sighed with an air of annoyance. Martin opened his mouth to announce his presence when Douglas spoke.

"It's been at least an hour. Maybe we should try to check on him? He probably overslept. You have his address on file, Carolyn?"

Carolyn went in search of the file. Martin stepped forward but no one had yet to acknowledge his prescence. He was beginning to feel unnerved.

"I'm here. Sorry I did oversleep an-"

Arthur spoke over him.

"Is Skip alright?

"You think something's wrong, Arthur?"

"Well yesterday he didn't look too happy. He wouldn't eat anything from the cheese tray! He loves the cheese tray! And he just looked kind of sad. Do you think he's ill?"

"Perhaps..."

"I brought him something that might cheer him up!" Arthur pulled a stuffed otter out of the bag he was carrying. It was wearing a captains hat. Douglas laughed and remembered the trip to Ottery St. Mary and Martin's refusal to have imaginary otters on the flight deck because it would be against regulations. He pictured Martin arriving to find the animal in his seat and the resulting verbal catastrophe, maybe tripping in the process.

"I think he would love it."

Martin was used to being invisible, but not to his friends. Not a single glance or snide remark was made towards him. He tried to think of reasons why he hadn't been noticed but that word overtook his mind. Dead.

"N-no no no no no no no. I can't be dead. I can't. be. dead. Douglas?"

He tried to tap Douglas on the shoulder but his hand went right through him. Panic began to pool in his stomach.

"Arthur?"

He tried to get the stewards attention only for the same thing to was a sudden flash in his head and an overwhelming smell of gasoline. His legs twitched and could hardly hold him up. Sounds circled around him but nothing was clear. It was gone just as soon as it arrived and left his head spinning. Martin sat down and immediately found himself in Carolyn's car on the way to the student house. She complained bitterly about not being able to reach anyone reliable by phone. Arthur sat in the back and adjusted the hat of the strapped-in otter sitting next to him. Martin sat in the other seat.

"Mum, did you turn the air on? It's a bit chilly."

"I think that is _usually_ what occurs when Carolyn is around."

Douglas' attempt at humour went un-countered, but it gave Martin hope that someone might notice his presence. He wasn't sure what to do. What do ghosts normally do? Don't they haunt places? Everything felt sort of numb. When he tried to think about what could have killed him, his memory was blank. The last thing he remembered was landing at Fitton. They arrived at the house after a long uncomfortable silence.

Carolyn marched up to the door and knocked. A young male student opened it, squinting in the sunlight and clearly hungover.

"Have you seen Martin?"

"Mar...who?"

"The pilot that lives in the attic!"

"Oh! Him. I don't know."

"You don't know? Has anyone checked on him? Knocked on his door? I need to a plane flown today and I am short one ginger pilot."

"I don't think so. We're never sure if he's in. He's very quiet."

Carolyn pushed him aside. The place was a mess. Dishes and cups were stacked in the kitchen sink. The young man seemed to be the only person still in.

"Good lord man, why is this place so filthy?"

"Someone usually does those so we leave them in the sink."

Martin may be a social oddity but he still pitched in around the student house. No one bothered him so he thought it was polite enough to clean up after the parties.

Carolyn knocked on the attic door. Douglas and Arthur stood behind her. Martin could see Douglas was steeling himself for whatever lay beyond it.

No response.

"Arthur, go wait in the car."

"But Mum..."

"The car. Now."

She had realized something was off and there was a possibility what they found in that room wouldn't be pleasant. Martin stood by the door holding his non-existent breath.

* * *

AN: I noticed some lines were deleted and fixed them.


	2. Chapter 2

Carolyn opened the door.

The room was empty. It was tidy compared to the rest of the house. A few poorly constructed and painted model airplanes hung from the ceiling. The rest of the room consisted of a table, some chairs, a mess of bedsheets, and empty boxes.

"Unless he slipped down the drain or a draft carried him out the window, Martin_ clearly_ isn't here." Douglas quipped while he looked around the attic.

He noticed a slip of paper on the table. It was covered in various doodles of logos for Icarus Removals, Martin's moving service. The model planes and Martin's childish drawings were endearing but they only worried the First Officer. He knew Martin was rather quick to emotion, but he also wasn't the luckiest man.

"We should look for his van. He may have broke down somewhere."

The sound of broken glass penetrated Martin's thoughts. For a moment he thought he felt wind on his face and coulds smell wet grass. The taste of blood overwhelmed his senses and it poured out his nose and mouth. He began to choke.

Why did this keep happening? He was sure it had to do with his death. but he could hardly put the picture together. Too many things happening at once and he couldn't exactly tell anyone if he did remember. He found himself in Douglas' house. The exhausted First Officer was talking to someone on the phone.

"...the police report is the best we can do for now. We drove all around town and didn't see that clunker anywhere".

Clunker? While Martin knew the van was old he didn't like anyone insulting the vehicle that ensured his livelihood. Where would he be without it? Oh, that's right. He can't use the van anymore because ghosts don't drive.

A surge of emotion overtook him. Martin realized he could never fly again, talk to his friends again, that he was alone. It wasn't fair! When he was alive he was poor and could hardly pay rent but he missed feeling of air in his lungs and playing word games and Arthur calling him Skip and everything.

Martin pulled away from his thoughts to notice Douglas had finished the phone call and stood with his head in his hands. Martin didn't know how long it had been since they were at the student house, but he could see dark circles under Douglas' eyes.

"Oh Martin, what idiotic scheme have you gotten yourself wrapped up in?" Douglas sighed. "You might have ran off or landed a better job. I wouldn't blame you if you did. I know we can be terrible, but aren't all families? I used to think we were like a family; you, me, Carolyn, and Arthur. We're a dysfunctional bunch, but we do care about you. I wish you realized that."

Martin tried to console him but he still found his hands went through the man. All he wished for in the world right now was the chance to speak and tell Douglas he was wrong. Martin did know they were like family. There were good days and bad days but they were still the only ones who would put up with him and that's all he could ask. In a burst of anger he struck a lamp sitting on a table. It's ceramic body shattered on the ground. Douglas stared at it in shock.

"Martin? Was that you?"


	3. Chapter 3

_How...how did I?_ Martin looked from his hands to the broken lamp. Douglas looked around the room as if looking for another sign or anything at all to indicate a presence before cleaning up the shards. He could do _that _just by becoming angry? Nothing else seemed to work and it was worth a shot. He gave an inaudible sigh. Anger was never an emotion he could express easily. He found life easier when it was bottled up and festered into a depression. Sometimes he used that anger to stand up for himself. He remembered the time he talked to that woman who didn't believe he good enough to be a pilot. Just thinking about it and her reaction made him smile...until she brought up the lemon tapped to his hat.

_Oh, the lemon. How unprofessional. Of course Douglas would embarrass me like that. Maybe if I had actually been paid like I would have been treated like a professional. Then I could afford food and proper lodging and I wouldn't be cleaning up after a bunch of college kids! All I wanted to do was prove my father wrong. I WAS worth something. I took that test 7 times before I passed and I could have given up, but I didn't but all you cared about was how I had failed. Now here I am, a bloody ghost that can't even remember how he died. I can't even be dead properly! All I wanted was to fly but now that opportunity is gone. I'll never be a pilot again. It just isn't fair._

The rage licked at his skin like a flame and the numbness of his limbs began to vanish. His voice seemed to echo throughout the room. Douglas looked to where Martin was standing. His face was pale and he took a few steps forward.

"Martin. Oh my god Martin. What happened to you?"

"You can see me?" Martin was astonished that the idea worked. He was solid somehow. Judging by the look on Douglas' face he was probably rather bashed up too. It wasn't like he could use a mirror when he was a ghost.

Martin felt Douglas' hand touch his arm and he shrank back. It felt like months since he had any physical contact. Being so detached from the world made him realize how much he missed his friends. Douglas tugged the sleeve of his jacket.

"You know Carolyn is going to kill you when she sees what you've done to the uniform"

"She can't kill what's already dead, Douglas"

Douglas took a step back and examined the scrapes on the pilot's face.

"Don't be stupid Martin. I'll take you down to the hospital so they can check you over and on the way there you can tell me just where you've been. Whatever trouble you got yourself into, I'm sure we can sort it out"

Martin grabbed Douglas' hand and moved it to his neck. His skin was cold and the bones in his fingers looked unnaturally crooked wrapped around the wrist of the older man.

"I mean it Douglas. I don't have a pulse and I don't know what happened to me. I was in my room one morning and then I was at Fitton and I saw you talking to Carolyn but no one saw me. I found myself here and when I became angry and hit that lamp I discovered I could touch things or at least be almost alive for a little while. But whenever I find myself somewhere else I smell grass and gasoline and everything's spinning. It's frightening. I'm scared. I don't want to be a ghost again"

The first officer's eyes widened. All the stress of the last few days showed on his face and Douglas pulled the pilot into a hug. Martin fell through him and vanished.

Standing in the living room with his arms wrapped around himself, he wondered if it was all just a daydream. Before he could finish that thought his phone rang.


	4. Chapter 4

Sorry it took so long. I've been away. Thanks for the reviews and favorites! I will be editing this when it's done and cleaning it up to help it flow better before I get my Ao3 account at the end of August. Sorry this chapter is so short.

* * *

Martin found himself at the edge of a forest. His distress over being alone once more was cut short by the scene before him. It was his van, twisted and crushed up against a tree. Behind him the line of trees gave way to a field was flowers. He took a step back as a barrage of sounds overtook him. He heard voices and sirens surrounding him but he couldn't respond to any of them. What snapped him out of it was the sound of a car slowing down on the road and he went to investigate.

From the road his van was hardly visible and covered by brush. _No wonder it took so long to find_, he thought to himself. It wasn't quite in plain sight and it wouldn't have been noticed unless someone was looking. The car was a tow truck that came to remove the van. His body wouldn't be in there anymore and there was no need to get a closer look.

Martin went back to the field and watched the man from the truck remove the yellow police tape. He could hear thunder and rain hitting the windshield. The van was hooked up. Applying pressure to the brakes caused him to lose control of the vehicle. It inched away from the tree. He listened to the glass shatter and the smell of gasoline invade his head.

He couldn't remember anything after that. The van was gone. It felt like he couldn't turn around without finding himself in a different place but finally having the chance to think only made him nervous.

What would happen to him now?

Douglas paid for the headstone. The marble shone in the sunlight and the words MARTIN CRIEFF - BELOVED FRIEND AND CAPTAIN glittered. Douglas and Carolyn had paid their respects and were waiting on Arthur, who was alone by the headstone. He was carrying the stuffed otter.

"Hi Skip. I'm sure heaven is brilliant. I named him Martin! He has a hat like yours. I didn't want you to be out here alone so I put him in this bag so he won't get wet when it rains. I hope you like him."

Arthur placed the otter infront of the headstone. It had been put in a sealed plastic bag. All Martin could do was watch the young man fight back tears.

"Goodbye Skip"

He sat on his headstone and waved goodbye as Arthur walked away.

Captain Martin Crieff closed his eyes and rested.


End file.
